Particularly in this time and place, in South Carolina, USA on the eve on an historic election, it is hard to preach peace.  There is so much anger.  Those of us who grew up liberal in the very conservative south thought we knew about the anger, racism, and misogyny.  We, or at least I, thought it had at least gone underground.  To basements of frat houses full of PBR and mixed nuts, shacks in the woods full of ammunition and potted meat, all night pool halls with smoke and mirrors.  Even there, it seemed that most people knew it wasn't right.  Women can lead, be your boss.  A black man can be president.  Children are to be loved.

And somehow, it's all out again.  People say horrifying things like, "I'm just saying what everyone is thinking," and I say, "NO!  That's not ok."

And then, "the other side" says terrible things too.  Ignorant, redneck, pathetic.  Deplorable.  And I wonder, how did it get that way?  How do we judge, who are we to condemn each other.  What can we say to each other.

Just a little while ago, I basked in shared stories with people who came to different conclusions from different places with different fears.  We spoke of fears and we spoke of hopes.  We heard each others stories and we reflected on how they were like our stories.  We listened to each others dreams and saw the differences but weren't afraid.

And that's what I hope for November 9 and on and on.  Throughout the nation and throughout the world.  Tell me your story.  I'll tell you mine.  Let us be still.